Nobody's Perfect
by Fyrie
Summary: Jack understands Will far more than Will would like to admit.


The anchor dropped for the night, The Interceptor rocked peacefully upon the gentle rolls of the ocean beneath it, the moon gleaming in a wickedly bright grin, high in the clear sky above the ship.

In the main cabin of the ship, two figures sat. 

One was slouched carelessly in a chair at the Captain's table, his booted feet propped on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes, his rough breathing deafening in the quiet cabin. The only other sounds were the slap of the waves against the hull and the soft creaking of the ship shifting beneath them.

The other figure, a younger man, stood by the open window, a hand braced on either side of the frame, his gaze lingering upon the liquid spill of the ocean before him, spreading as far as his eye could see.

Every ripple seemed to captivate him, every motion, every glimmer of starlight upon the dark spread.

It had always been that way. 

Ever since he was old enough to remember, Will Turner could admit he had always been drawn to the sea, his heart always skipping a beat the moment the gleaming expanse came into view, when his mother had taken him down to the docks.

He glanced over his shoulder at his companion, his expression twisting with distaste.

A pirate.

That's what the man was and that, apparently, was what his father had been. He had often wondered why his mother had never traveled with his father, as merchant's wives were often able to do, but if his father had been a pirate…

Turning sharply back to the sea, Will drew a rapid breath, focussing on the water once more, his calm returning. His father was not a pirate. He couldn't have been. It was impossible. He was a decent merchant. A good man.

"You can try and pretend all you like, lad," the lazy drawl came from behind him and Will felt his body tense immediately. "But you'll never be able to deny the call of the sea. S'in your blood and that kind of thing, you can't fight."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

There was a throaty chuckle. "Course you don't, mate," As always, Jack Sparrow's voice was utterly relaxed, as if he didn't have a care in the world. The chair squealed and Will heard Jack's boots coming to rest on the floor. "That's why you're standing at an open window, after we've been sailing all day, staring at the sea."

The soft jingle of Jack's jewelry informed Will that the older man – the pirate – was approaching. Glaring out at the water, he deliberately attempted to ignore the man he had liberated from jail, even when Sparrow leaned casually against the window frame, raising a hand to study his nails.

"I know what it feels like, y'know. You're not the only one what can't resist her."

"Her?" Will's eyes darted sidelong to see the pirate smirk.

"Not your lady-love, boy," Jack wagged a finger, shaking his head as he spoke. "Oh no, never your lady-love, although I do believe the lovely Miss Swann holds a little flame for me…" Will's fists clenched, only serving to make Jack chuckle. "I meant the sea. She's our true mistress."

Will returned his gaze to the expanse of ocean out of the window. "That doesn't make me anything like you," he said harshly, his voice forced out through clenched teeth. "Just because I like the sea…"

"Nah, mate," Jack murmured pensively. "You're fooling yourself if you think you only 'like' the sea. Even just the way you're looking at it tells me it's far more than that to you."

Turning fully, to look down at Sparrow curiously, Will's brow furrowed. "It's only the sea."

"Oh no, my boy," Jack's eyes widened, as if Will had just uttered a blasphemy. "It's far more than. Far more." One hand rose, hovering a hand's breadth from Will's heart, as the pirate continued to speak softly, gazing at his spread fingers. "It's the blood in your veins, it's the thing that keeps you going, it's your mistress, your lover, your best friend, your worst enemy, your…" His voice was almost a reverent whisper, as he finished, "Everything."

"It doesn't mean that much to me," Will protested, taking a sharp step back, as if it would distance him from the truth, as well as the pirate. 

Jack raised his eyes, eyes that were as clear, dark and mysterious at the night's sea itself. "Then tell me, lad," he said, one side of his mouth lifting. "Why, if it means nothing to you, do find yourself staring out at it, every night, even when thinking about your lady love?"

"I don't," Will lied hotly.

"And I'm the Mother Superior," Jack retorted. "I can see it in you. It's right there. In your eyes when you look at her." He took a step closer to the younger man and Will looked away, drawing a quick breath. "It's in you, boy," One finger tapped firmly at Will's breastbone. "It's in here. And the more you try to fight her," The same hand spread on Will's chest, the heat of Jack's palm seeping through the fabric. "The more she will love you and claim you as her own."

Will pressed his eyes closed, his hands fisting again. "I'm not like you," he repeated, more for his own benefit than Jack. "You might feel you have to answer to her, but I can walk away any time I want to."

"I used to say that when people told me I loved her, mate," Jack murmured, his body painfully close to Will's. The younger man tried to step back, only to find himself backed against the wall.

"Sparrow…"

"Just listen to me, boy," The pirate braced a hand beside Will's head, the scent of salt and the sea heavy on him, mingled with a scent that could only be Jack. A flush of aggravated embarrassment spread up Will's face when he realised he recognised the smell of one who lived on the sea and, worse still, that he had to have sniffed Jack to catch it. "You might find this…" He exhaled, his breath and light warm against Will's throat, making the younger man shiver unconsciously, as Jack swayed a little closer. "Interesting."

"I doubt it," Will's mouth was dry and what false bravado he could force was being smothered beneath the strangely dominating press of Jack's notably smaller body against his, the soft, lilting, hypnotic murmur falling from his lips and the way his dark eyes glimmered by the faint moonlight.

"Tell me you could live, my boy, without ever seeing that beauty again," Jack waved a hand casually towards the window. "Tell me you could live every day of your life, quite happy never to see the way the moon kisses the waters, the way the sun dances on it, the way a keel cuts through the waves, the way it ripples, the sensation of your fingers trailing in the water… tell me you could live without it."

"You're mad." Will's voice lacked the conviction of his words.

Jack nodded, the moonlight playing eerily upon his features. "Might well be, Will, but at least I," He tapped his chest proudly. "Am man enough to admit that the sea will always have part of my heart. You got that from your father. Bill loved the sea and you do to, even if you won't admit it. Tell me you could live without it. Try and lie to old Jack."

Will opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes darted to the window and the gleaming billows. "It's just the sea," he said, half to himself. "It's nothing more. A lake, a river… they would get the same reaction."

"Deluding yourself, boy. You love her. I was the same. Years and years, I said I could walk away at any time, but then I realised," Jack's words were little more than a wondering breath, whispering across Will's cheek as he lifted himself on his toes and leaned closer to speak into the younger man's ear. "I only said I didn't love her, because I didn't want to admit to how much I needed her. You're the same, mate. I can see it. You and I… we're the same."

"NO!" Pushing Jack back a step, Will shook his head vehemently, trying to ignore the sudden increase in the rapid tempo of his heart. "I'm nothing like you! You're nothing but a filthy, wretched pirate."

Jack made an elaborate little bow. "Might be a filthy, wretched pirate, lad, but at least I know what I am and I am what I know. You, on the other hand…" Jack's smile was cryptic. "Well, we'll give you some time. After all…" He turned and wove his way back across to his chair, leaving Will leaning against the wall, watching him with suspicion. Sitting down, he propped his feet back on the table and pulled his hat back over his eyes, moonlight slanting in on him through the windows. "No one's perfect right away."


End file.
